


Opening Up

by Nabatean_Nan



Series: Setleth Modern AU [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/M, don't tell my boss but he basically paid me to write this, former hanneman/manuela, i'm bad at tags so they'll come as they come, if they aren't tagged in the characters section u can safely assume they aren't important, mention of canon characters but they're not important lmao, minor rhea/catherine, minor spoilers for seteth and flayn, sunday school, this fic can also be titled 'let byleth have a mom', university faculty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2020-09-25 21:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabatean_Nan/pseuds/Nabatean_Nan
Summary: Byleth starts teaching a class as part of her graduate assistantship and runs into an old familiar face.--The title is taken from "Opening Up" from the Waitress Soundtrack.The story of how Byleth and Seteth get together in a modern au.





	1. Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first part of what is hopefully a multi-part setleth modern AU. It's not going to all be multichapter bc for whatever reason I'm less likely to update things that are multichap?? So it's going to be like... a series of short multichaps/oneshots taking place in the same au lol. I already have some other oneshots planned out so get pumped. they'll bounce around byleth and seteth's relationship so some will take place before, like this one, and most will probably take place during LOL.
> 
> Some of them are sad though so maybe don't get AS pumped.

At age six, Byleth’s mother parts from the rest of the congregation and carries her down some steps. “You’re old enough now to join the other kids,” she tells her. Byleth only yawns, still sleepy from having to wake up so early. Usually, she sleeps right through church services while her mother pets her head, but it seems that simple reality is beginning to change. “You’ll get to do all sorts of fun things while you learn about Seiros and Cichol and Macuil...”

She continues to speak softly to Byleth until they come into a loud room. Other kids, some Byleth’s age and many older, running around or playing with toys. Byleth piques her head up in curiosity and examines the room. It’s brightly colored, with colored tiles lining the floor, just like her playroom at home. There are lots of tables with papers and pencils and crayons. There are even bookshelves and so many _ books. _ Byleth’s mother chuckles when she wiggles out of her arms and makes her way right over to a shelf. 

“Sephia,” one of the other mothers, Byleth doesn’t remember, admonishes. “You’re still carrying her? She’s six!”

Byleth picks out a book she thinks looks interesting, something about saint Cichol, and walks back to her mother. Sephia puts a hand on Byleth’s head and pulls her close. “I’ll hold her as long as I’m able, Michelle. Is your Miklan joining the Sunday school this year as well?”

Byleth’s mother chats for a bit while Byleth reads. It’s a cute picture book, and she likes the way the artist drew Cichol. Lots of people portray him as older, but in this book he’s very young. Maybe this story takes place before he has Cethleann. Byleth is still a little too young to understand that the saints were real people who did real things and not just characters in stories who always have the same appearance. 

“Hello, Mrs. Eisner,” a new voice calls. Byleth doesn’t pick her head up from her book. 

“Ah, Seteth, hello. How have you been?”

“Very well. Will your daughter be joining us this year?”

That gets Byleth’s attention. She keeps the book open but raises her gaze. Sephia’s fingers run through Byleth’s hair. “She is! I’ve tried to get her excited, but I’m not certain she understands... Ah, well, you can see she loves to read. Perhaps if she doesn’t enjoy the lesson of the day, she can pick up a book.”

Byleth smiles, at least what constitutes a smile for her, and nods. The other figure, a boy much older than Byleth, chuckles. “If that’s what she’d prefer, we can work something out. As long as she’s learning.”

The man turns to her and smiles. He must be a full-grown adult, Byleth thinks. He’s like two Byleths tall probably. “Hello, Miss. My name is Seteth. I’m one of the assistant teachers. I’m very pleased to meet you. What’s your name?”

Byleth holds her book to her chest, as if to use it as a shield from the stranger. “Byleth.”

Sephia smiles. “She’s not much for talking, Seteth. Actually, she doesn’t usually introduce herself. That was very good, By-By.” Byleth hides her smile in her book and Sephia ruffles her hair. “By-By, I’m going to go rejoin the congregation, okay? Will you be alright if I leave you with Seteth?” Byleth nods and Sephia bends down to leave a kiss on the top of her head before leaving. 

Byleth steps forward and grasps the edge of Seteth’s sleeve. He seems a bit perturbed at first but then smiles at her. “You may stay at my side, Miss Byleth, but I may need to reach for things, so please do not grab my sleeve.” She lets go and he nods at her. “Thank you.”

She follows him for the rest of the morning. Someone else would be annoyed, and maybe Seteth is, but he puts up with it well. If Byleth gets in his way, he gently guides her away or asks her to move. When she gets distracted from the activity, he guides her back or lets her read for a few moments before returning. This isn’t his first time working with children after all. Byleth finds that she enjoys his company quite a bit. 

When Sephia comes to pick her back up, Byleth is drawing a picture while Seteth describes a story to her. 

“—and Mother Hen shared her bread with all the other animals, in the end. Oh, Miss Byleth, your mother is back.”

Byleth quickly finishes coloring her drawing before running to her mother, paper and crayons in hand. She thrusts the paper up, and Sephia happily takes it. “What’s this?”

Blobs of color, mostly, but Sephia knows her daughter’s artwork. Those are animals and a barn. “From the story,” Byleth says. “Mother Hen needed help with her bread.”

“Ah.” Sephia smiles at Seteth and brings Byleth back to the table. “Put the crayons back, baby, they belong to the church.” Byleth does, and then Sephia hums as she looks at the picture. “I think this belongs on our fridge, though. Your father will be quite pleased with it.”

She smiles at Seteth and ruffles Byleth’s hair. “Thank you for watching her, Seteth. I hope she was good for you.”

He nods. “She was very well behaved.” Especially compared to some of the other children. There are always troublemakers, and there are always children like Byleth, content to go with the flow. Seteth looks at her and gives Byleth a soft smile. “Will I be seeing you again next Sunday, Miss Byleth?”

She nods, and they leave. Next Sunday, she does see him again. She sees him every Sunday for two years. 

* * *

The day grad school feels really real is when she wakes up and realizes that she has to teach a class that morning. She isn’t just grading a test or random assignments. She has an entire class of freshmen all to herself. Sure, it’s just an introduction class, but it’s _ her _ introduction class. These students are calling _ her _ ‘Professor’. Relying on _ her _ to guide them through this class. 

Her nerves die a little when her phone _pings_ and she sees a dumb dad meme her father sends her. _ You’re gonna do great, _ he tells her. He’s always been her rock. She doesn’t know what she’d do without him. 

She packs up her laptop, makes some quick toast, and heads out. She lives close to campus and even with the cloud cover, the weather is nice. So she walks her way to her first lecture of the day. It’s early. Nine in the morning, then she has her own class to attend at ten, then office hours until noon, and then finishing the day with one last grad class. Since she’s still the graduate student equivalent of a baby, she’s only teaching one class. The fact that she’s teaching a class at all is miraculous because she really shouldn’t be. The only reason she is is that she did so many grad classes early. That’s one of the perks of doing your undergraduate and your graduate degrees at the same school. She’s a bit of an enigma.

When she steps into her lecture hall, there’s already someone at the front. She’s afraid she’s gotten the room wrong, but as she double-checks the room number she remembers Hanneman telling her there was a class the hour before hers. Ah, well. 

She makes her way to the podium to set her things up after the other professor leaves, but she stops in her tracks. She curses herself because her damned heart skips a beat and she doesn’t know why at first. The other professor is young, probably a few years older than her, and certainly she doesn’t think he’s attractive. That can’t be why. 

A glance at the room’s whiteboard gives Byleth her answer. She recognizes him, that’s all. “Seteth?” 

The man — and now he is truly, actually a man — looks up at her. Goddess, his hair is _ long _ and he’s got a _ beard. _“Yes?”

Oh, no. He doesn’t recognize her, does he? Well, that’s to be expected. She was basically a baby when he last saw her. 

“Ah,” She stutters. She’s never stuttered. She’s embarrassed. He must think she’s one of his students. 

He blinks at her, then cocks his head to the side and offers a smile. “You’re... Sephia Eisner’s daughter, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you there for a moment.”

She shakes her head, her panic washed away with relief. “Byleth Eisner, yes. And I was eight when you last saw me so I’m surprised you remember me even with a moment to think about it.”

He chuckles and Byleth’s heart flutters again. “Well, you left a fair impression on me. Are you a student here? I didn’t see your name on my roster.”

“Yes,” she says. “But I’m actually teaching my own class here in a few minutes. I’m Dr. Essar’s graduate student, and I was approved to do an intro to physical anthropology class this semester.”

He slings his laptop bag over his shoulder and hums. “That’s impressive. Hanneman doesn’t usually take on graduate students.”

Byleth shrugs. “My dad put in a good word for me.”

“Ah, he did teach here, didn’t he?” Seteth reaches up to grasp the strap of his bag, and Byleth notices something gleam on his finger. A wedding ring. 

Her heart drops, and she’s more ashamed of that than of when it skipped a beat earlier. 

“I won’t keep you from your students,” Seteth says. He nods to her and heads to the door. “We should keep in touch, though. Perhaps Hanneman will allow you to join our faculty game nights.” He waves to her, and she waves back. 

“He’s told me about them. I don’t know if I want to come.” That makes him laugh, which makes Byleth feel better. He’s always had a nice laugh. “Have a good day, Seteth.”

“You as well, Miss Eisner."

It doesn’t occur to her until after she’s set up her laptop to begin class that she didn’t even realize Seteth taught at this university. She’s been here for four years, attended classes in multiple schools. Surely at some point she would have bumped into him, heard about him? Unless he only teaches graduate classes? She has no idea, and suddenly she has never been less interested in physical anthropology in her entire life. 


	2. Facebook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth finds Seteth's faculty profile; Seteth adds Byleth on Facebook.

Jeralt’s truck is in the driveway by the time Byleth gets home. That’s not at all unusual. Though Byleth does technically live on her own, her father has a spare set of keys and often makes his way over to see how his daughter is doing. He usually texts her before making his way, unless he knows she isn’t there. Then he just comes in and avoids her bedroom after a certain... incident that they don’t talk about. 

It’s not as though Byleth doesn’t do the same for him. She has his spares, makes her way into his apartment and makes sure his refrigerator is stocked, makes sure he’s taking care of himself. It’s been a hard few years for them both. 

Alois’s car isn’t there, neither is his wife’s, so there’s plenty of room for Jeralt’s giant rusted truck. Byleth is surprised the damned thing still runs, after all these years. She’s pretty sure he’s owned it since before she was born. She pulls in behind it, so if Alois or his wife come home it hopefully won’t be too much of a mess to get Jeralt out. She takes the back way in, watering her plants before making her way up the stairs towards her part of the duplex. 

Once she enters the kitchen, she spots her father enjoying a cup of coffee and flipping through one of her old textbooks. “Afternoon, kid. How’d your first day go?”

She toes off her shoes and walks over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and then stealing his last sip of coffee. “It was alright. Dr. Essar only bothered me about my crest once.”

Jeralt snorts. Byleth is pretty sure he had a talking to with Hanneman about Byleth’s crest. Yes, she has one. Yes, she’s interested in studying it. No, she doesn’t want to be your test subject right now. 

Byleth turns on the kitchen faucet so she can wash out the coffee cup. The water is ice cold, a testament that she lives on the second floor of a very old house. “Oh, you won’t believe who I ran into today.”

Jeralt hums. “Someone who can make me another cup of coffee.”

Byleth shakes her head. “Your heart’s gonna give out, old man.” She sets the cup aside to dry, then goes over to sit at the little breakfast nook she has. “Seteth Feathal.”

Jeralt raises an eyebrow. He pulls his phone out and scrolls through undoubtedly important texts. “Hm.”

She rubs her ring fingernail subconsciously. “I think he had a wedding ring. Did you know he was married?”

Jeralt nods. “Think he got married... eight, nine years ago? He sent us an invite, but... well, I sent him a Target gift card and called it good.”

Byleth snorts. “Target?”

“Better than Walmart. How’d you run into him?”

“He was teaching in the same room I was an hour before my class. There are only ten minutes between our classes, so we only got to chat for a minute.”

“Huh. Teaching makes sense. I thought maybe he’d be a preacher, but I guess teaching is kind of like preaching. Do you know what he teaches?”

Byleth shakes her head. “I could look it up right quick.”

English and writing, as it turns out. Byleth sort of thought he would be teaching religious studies. They actually looked under there first. When they didn’t find him, Jeralt suggested just putting his name in the search function. He just popped up where they didn’t expect: The English department. Listed in his academic interests are fables, myths, and legends, and that makes sense. 

“Look at that,” Jeralt says, “his whole life story. He’s got a daughter! Bet she's a cutie.”

He sure does. His profile mentions his favorite way to spend a Saturday evening is fishing with his daughter. 

“Funny,” Byleth mumbles, “I don’t see his wife mentioned anywhere...”

“Did they make you fill one of these out? You better not have said _ your _ favorite way to spend a Saturday evening is drinking with your dear old dad.”

Byleth snorts. “No, they didn’t have me fill one of these out. I’m just a grad student.” Though, she does have a profile. She pops her name in to show him; it’s much smaller than any of the actual professors. “Byleth Eisner. Graduate Assistant to Dr. Hanneman von Essar. Teaching Intro to Physical Anthropology.”

Jeralt blows a raspberry. Byleth gives a little smile. 

Later that night, after eating hamburger helper and watching whatever crime show was on that night together, Jeralt leaves. They have to play around with their cars, but it’s not their first time at that particular ballet. The harder game is when Alois realizes Jeralt is leaving and trying to make that conversation with him short so none of them get eaten by bugs. 

Byleth is rubbing afterbite on her legs after changing into pajamas. She loves Alois to bits, but the man can be a bit egregious in his conversations. She doesn’t mind braving a few bites for him, though. 

Her phone glows white with a notification. Thinking it’s just her father, she ignores it in favor of tending to her newly destroyed legs. Byleth’s mother used to tell her that her blood was sweet, and that’s why mosquitos liked her so much. Now she knows it’s just because she’s cursed. Literally! She read an article during her sophomore year about how crest bearers tend to attract mosquitoes. She sent the article to her dad and he had the audacity to reply, “Well you didn’t get your crest from me.”

Once her legs are less itchy, she lies back on her couch, wipes off her fingers, and picks up her phone. She has a few other notifications, but only one that actually catches her eye. 

_ Seteth Feathal has sent you a friend request. _

Of course, she accepts it immediately. Once she gets the notification that they’re officially friends, she begins the commemorative dance of facebook stalking. It’s not really stalking, though, is it? Not when both parties have consented to be friends. At that point, it’s catching up. Byleth is certain that Seteth will go through her profile once he gets the notification that she accepted his request. He’ll see her silly Halloween photos, her ugly Christmas sweaters, her awkward cosplays, all that good stuff. She deserves that in return, right? Does Seteth wear ugly Christmas sweaters, or is that beneath him? Byleth only remembers him as a stern figure who rarely smiled, except when she or one of the other kids did something good. Or when he was reading from one of the books. 

His profile picture blows that perception of him out of the water. He’s smiling, softly, with just a hint of his teeth peeking out. Over his eyes are heart-shaped sunglasses that Byleth is pretty sure are Disney Princess brand. His long hair is pulled back, and there are all sorts of wildflowers tucked into it in every which location. She clicks on the picture to get a better look, and it expands into a much larger picture. He’s holding a little girl with bright green hair pulled into two pigtails. This must be the daughter he mentioned in his faculty profile. She can’t be any more than three in this picture. Byleth can’t help but wonder if it’s an old picture or not. 

She’s excited, Seteth’s daughter. Whatever function they’re at, she’s obviously having fun. She has a big smile, a tight grip for holding onto her father, and a fierce look in her eyes. She has a half-eaten hot dog in one hand and a little ketchup smeared by her mouth. Byleth isn’t sure, but she thinks she has a Minecraft T-shirt. 

Byleth clicks out of the picture. Seteth’s banner picture is much more mundane; just a landscape photo of a small pier on a small lake. She scrolls through his page. He made a post about the first day of school a few hours ago. She doesn’t know why, but a small part of her is sad to see that he didn’t even vaguely mention running into her. She reasons that most of his friends wouldn’t know her. What’s the point of mentioning her anyway? And then, one of the nuggets of information Byleth was looking for: _ “I know I’m going to be a mess when Flayn starts kindergarten!” _

His daughter’s name. It’s cute, simple. Byleth is sure it means a lot to him, or maybe he and Flayn’s mother just picked it out at random. Maybe Flayn’s mother just knew she always wanted that to be her daughter’s name. Who knows. 

Speaking of Flayn’s mother, Seteth’s profile is oddly... absent, in mention of her. Byleth scrolls through it, skims his posts, and desperately avoids accidentally liking his older pictures, but she doesn’t see mention a wife. Maybe she doesn’t have a profile, but surely Seteth would still mention her, right? 

Then, she finally scrolls far enough. A post from nearly a year ago, one of those time-hop memory posts. The memory post is a picture of what must have been Seteth’s wedding. Seteth in a suit, a gorgeous woman in white. They look so happy. Seteth had simply captioned the memory as: _ Today would have been our sixth wedding anniversary. _

The comments are absolutely littered with people giving condolences. It’s been a while since Byleth has read “Sorry for you loss,” so many times. That’s when she decides to stop. She feels like she’s maybe too caught up on Seteth’s history now. Maybe she should have waited for him to offer it up, instead of going and digging for it. She feels sort of scummy, now, even though she knows she really shouldn’t. Seteth made that post visible to friends, and he friended her. That’s that. 

She gets the _ ping _ of a message, and of course, it’s from Seteth. Byleth curses, afraid she liked one of his old posts after all. 

_ Hello there. How was your first day of teaching? _

She breathes a sigh of relief. He’s just being polite. At eleven at night. To her.

_ Hey. It was good. I already had to tell one student that he’s not allowed to ask me out, just because I’m close-ish to their age. _

Oh, she should mention that was a joke. 

_ That was a joke. _

_ If was Sylvain Gautier, you should know that he's a known problem. I heard one ga last year sprayed him with a squirt bottle. You could try that? _

She scoffs a little laugh, imagining the poor redhead walking into class on Wednesday and panicking when he sees a squirt bottle on Byleth’s podium. Maybe she’ll do it just for the look on his face. Though, that does bring up another question. 

_ A known problem? There doesn’t need to be like... a report for that? _

Seteth takes his time with that reply, and Byleth wonders if perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned it. 

_ If it makes you uncomfortable. But I do think he truly knows the boundaries. Regarding the ga from last year, I believe he apologized to her as well. Of course, if he does make you uncomfortable, I’d be happy to give him a talk. _

Oh, that’s an even better image than the squirt bottle. Byleth definitely remembers Seteth as the overprotective type, happy to give a lecture whenever he saw any sort of inequality or harassment at their little Sunday school. 

_ I don’t think that will be necessary. My dad made me take karate. _

_ Ha! Hopefully, he doesn’t antagonize you nearly to that point. I’ve heard other professors speak highly of him. He’s a good kid, underneath the flirting. _

_ He’s like, what, 19? He’ll get over it. _

Byleth certainly remembers being 19. It’s not a particularly fun age to be. 

_ Indeed. _

Neither reply for a few moments after that. Byleth isn’t really sure how to reply. Maybe she doesn’t need to? Maybe they’re just done for the night. Seteth saw she was online and wanted to pop by and say hello. She kind of likes that idea. She’s brought out of her thoughts by another _ ping _.

_ I apologize. It’s getting quite late, so I’ll be going to bed. I just wanted to say that I’m very happy to have run into you today, and I hope that we stay in touch. Perhaps we can catch up tomorrow at lunch? _

Byleth’s heart flutters a bit. 

_ Sure. Have a good night. _

_ Wonderful. You as well; have a good night. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for a better image: Byleth lives in a top-bottom duplex. She lives on the top half, and Alois and his family live on the bottom. I imagine Alois owns the complex and rents out the top. When Byleth was looking for a place to stay, he offered it up and the rest is history! 
> 
> Also I had an existential crisis when I realized Seteth didn't have a last name. This dumbass didn't give his fake identity a fake last name. I asked for help and two people told me "but his last name is fire emblem" so now his last name is d'embleme.  
//EDIT, 9/8/19: Changed seteth's last name from d'embleme to feathal. credit goes to @bees_ink (twitter) aka bees_and_ink here on ao3. she's a fucking genius thanks bby


	3. Fuzzy's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth gets an office; Seteth reveals the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad; I wanted Flayn to be in this chapter but it would have been waaay too long. The pacing would have been off. It would have been BAD
> 
> she will be the star of the next one. dw dw

Byleth’s Tuesday mornings are, fortunately, much less busy than her Mondays’. Without any classes to teach or attend, she only has to man her own office hours, doing whatever menial task Dr. Hanneman Essar deems appropriate for her. She doesn’t even have to go in until ten, which means she can basically sleep in until nine since she took a shower the night before. 

Some people say they didn’t learn anything in their undergraduate years, but Byleth learned how to manage her time like a grizzled veteran.

She shoots her father a quick text message while she makes herself a coffee, making sure he’s awake and alive after his night shift. He should be heading home now if he’s not going out to his favorite restaurant to get breakfast-dinner. Jeralt’s body is on an entirely different schedule, but he’s made it work since she was a kid. Once her coffee is done brewing, she pops a top on it and heads out the door. 

Alois and his family are already long gone, so she makes sure to arm the security system. It’s basic, absolutely no bells or whistles, but Jeralt insisted on it. So they have it. Byleth was annoyed at the time, but she can’t really say it _ doesn’t make _ her feel safer. She doesn’t think Alois or his family care about it one way or the other. 

When she gets to the Anthropology department, it’s absolutely barren. The door is open, thank the goddess, and Byleth suddenly realizes she didn’t get a key to the department. Does she even get one? She doesn’t think she actually gets one. It’s not like she’s actually a professor in the department. 

“Oh, hey,” the receptionist says. They’re super young, and definitely not the older man that Byleth met yesterday. He must be an undergraduate student. He yawns. “You must be the grad student Dr. Essar warned me about.”

Byleth turns to him. The boy has dark green hair, pulled back in a low ponytail. He looks like he really doesn’t want to be here right now. Byleth really can’t blame him. At that moment, she feels a strong connection to him. 

So she just nods. “Probably. My name is Byleth Eisner. Did he leave something for me to do?”

The boy nods. “He wanted you to copy some documents.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “But he was running out the door when he told me. Late for class. Didn’t even tell me what he wanted you to copy. I figured he probably emailed it to you.” 

He turns around in his chair and gestures to the very empty office behind him. There’s a desk, a chair, some bookshelves, a computer that may or may not be functional. “Dr. Lute said you could use the office back there.”

She hums and heads back. Before she crosses into the room, she turns to the boy. “Oh, what’s your name?”

“Lindhardt,” is all he offers. He turns back to his computer, and Byleth realizes he’s just been staring at pictures of cats for most of their conversation. 

Byleth likes him.

* * *

The computer miraculously works. Byleth is able to sign in and bring up her email without any hitches. Except, of course, that Hanneman hasn’t sent her any emails whatsoever. She has a few emails about class, some students asking her if they can miss class already. It’s not even the second day! Kids are wild. 

Partway to drafting an email to Hanneman about her work, her phone pings. Of course, anything that comes through her phone is much more important than anything school- or work-related. It’s Seteth, sending her a message through Facebook. So, she thinks to herself, last night wasn’t a dream.

_ I do hope your morning has been better than mine. Are you still able to meet for lunch? _

_ Of course. What happened? _

_ My daughter’s favorite dress had a stain on it. She threw a fit when I asked her to change. _

Byleth doesn’t know that she can imagine the sweet face from Seteth’s profile picture having a tantrum. That beautiful smile contorted into an awful scowl, eyes and cheeks rimmed red, face wet with tears. It just doesn’t seem right.

_ Oh no. Were you able to find a suitable replacement? _

_ No, unfortunately. We compromised with a sweater that hides the stain. Byleth, never have children. _

_ lol _

_ I love her with all my heart. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. Never have children. _

_ I’m screenshotting this and saving it for when she turns 18. _

_ You mustn’t.... please, she’s all I have. _

_ You still have a few years left to be a cool dad in the meantime dw. _

_ I treasure those years... _

What a sap, Byleth thinks. He sort of reminds her of Alois, trying desperately to be a cool dad. At least he isn’t telling bad dad jokes. Yet. Goddess, Byleth doesn’t want to imagine that. What sort of awful jokes would he come up with? Being a single father can’t be easy, maybe that takes away any time he’d have for joke formulation. 

She should change the subject before things get awkward. Lunch. They were going to get lunch. 

_ So is there a secret place the faculty eat or do we have to eat at the cafeteria like heathens? _

_ Sadly my proposal to build a five-star dining hall in the faculty lounge was, once again, denied. If it would be most convenient for you, we can eat at the dining hall, but there’s a small Almyran style restaurant near the school we can go to. It’s not fast food, but it is fast service. _

_ Sounds good. Anything’s got to be better than chicken tenders and soggy fries. _

_ Not to make every single conversation we have about my child, but please teach her that. _

_ I will get her hooked on fish sticks. _

_ No!! _

* * *

They decide to meet at one, after one of Byleth’s classes ends and Seteth’s office hours are over. He sends her the name of the restaurant and she drives over there, only to discover that parking is an absolute nightmare. Their parking lot is about seven spaces, so Byleth pulls into a residential street and parks there. It’s better than if she would have walked from the university, at least. Seteth is waiting for her by the door, holding some cups?, and offers her a smile. She tries not to look away, that would just be weird. 

“This is a fairly popular place to eat, during the day,” he says as he holds the door open. “Perhaps I should have warned you that parking would be difficult.”

She shakes her head and makes her way over to what she assumes is an ordering line. There are quite a few people in line. “I figured it out pretty quickly.”

He hums a small chuckle and then holds out one of the cups to her. “Here. They offer discounts on drinks if you bring in one of their souvenir cups.”

It’s just a plastic cup, she thinks, but still. The sentiment is there. “Cool, thanks. I take it it’s probably like a dollar?”

He eyes the menu. “I think a dollar and a half.”

Byleth nods solemnly. “My wallet thanks you.”

They make idle chatter while they make their way to the front of the line. Mostly just Byleth asking what she should get. She doesn’t really know Almyran food very well. She’s not a picky eater, though, so Seteth helps her figure out some options. It’s wild because she’s doesn’t know a lot about Almyran food, but she knows that feta cheese isn’t a common topping. 

“It’s an Almyran-Alliance mix,” Seteth explains. “They call in Baja or something.”

Byleth thought that was a weird Mountain Dew flavor, not a style of food. Still, it’s their turn to order, so she just gets a combo platter with chicken. Better safe than sorry, right? Chicken is safe. If they mess up chicken, how good can they be?

She reaches into her purse to pay for her order, but then Seteth’s hand reaches forward and brushes her aside. 

“What are you doing?” She asks with a playful snarl.

He looks at her with an eyebrow raised, playfully tapping his credit card on the counter. “I’ve got to order, too.”

“Not before I pay.”

He makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Go get your drink.”

“Not before I _ pay _.”

He leans across the counter, making a big show of blocking her access to the register and, by proxy, paying. “May I please have the grilled Mahi salad?”

She rolls her eyes, throws her hands in the air, and heads over to the soda fountain. She doesn’t get her drink until he’s finished ordering and heads back over to her. She crosses her arms and gives him her best mean look, which isn’t saying much. She doesn’t really have a good mean look. 

“Just because you’re a big tall man, doesn’t mean you have to buy me lunch.”

“You’re right,” he says. He gets water. Salad and water! “I bought your lunch because I wanted to.” He sips his water. “And because I feel bad.”

She raises an eyebrow and gets Dr. Pepper. If she’s getting a free drink, she might as well get something good out of it. “Why do you feel bad?”

He sighs. “Because I was awful to you when we were kids.”

She turns to him abruptly, eyebrows high on her forehead. He must be kidding, right? “What?”

He pulls her out of the way of the machine, a new line of people wanting refills starting to form by it. “At Sunday School, when I was the teacher’s assistant? Do you truly not remember?”

She shakes her head and sets her cup down on a table. “I remember loving Sunday School because I got to read books and draw pictures and hang out with you. I don’t remember you being anywhere near awful.”

Seteth sits down and pinches the bridge of his nose. Byleth frowns and settles down in the seat across from him. “I was, though. I was... fourteen? When you first started. We didn’t have a lot of kids that year, so I was the only assistant. I thought I was,” he twirls his hand around, “well, I’ll just say it. I thought I was hot shit.” Byleth can’t help but snort, and Seteth rolls his eyes, though he has a bit of a smile too. “At the time, it was my dream to be a Sunday School teacher, so I wanted to impress the current teacher and the former one.”

“Ms. Rhea,” Byleth nods. “I remember her. Who was the former? I only remember Rhea.”

Seteth chuckles. “Your mother. She was my Sunday School teacher, actually. She left when she had you.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. So, when she asked me, personally, to watch you, of course I said yes. And looking back on it, you were a perfectly lovely child.” He takes a sip of his water before rubbing his temple. “But at the time I was... well, I wanted everything to go to plan. We had a set schedule, and you refused to follow it. You wanted to read during crafts, you wanted to do crafts during playtime, you wanted to play during craft time.” He shakes his head. “Of course, other kids were similar, wanting to follow their own itineraries, but Rhea would rear them back herself. I insisted that I was in charge of you, because of what Ms. Sephia had asked, and so... Well, a headstrong fourteen-year-old doesn’t always make the best babysitter.”

Byleth hums and sips her soda. “I don’t have any bad memories.”

He sighs. “Byleth, I once left you in a puddle after you tripped because you refused to come inside for crafts.”

She snorts. “I think I do remember that. I thought we were playing a game. Mom used to let me splash around in puddles by myself all the time.”

“What about when I let you eat glue out of the bottle?”

“Dad once let me eat molded cheese just so I would learn to never eat molded food.”

He stares at her for a moment. “I... suddenly I have great concern for you.”

A waiter comes by and drops off their food. Byleth is... kind of impressed by how good it smells. Seteth thanks their waiter and Byleth goes right into poking around her rice to make sure there is a suitable amount of cilantro. She finds that there, in fact, is and digs in.

They eat in silence for a few moments. Byleth discovers that this particular restaurant is dangerously good. She may have to have future lunches here, though her chicken is a bit... moist. She’ll get something else next time. Still, it is better than glue. Seteth seems to enjoy his salad, though she would honestly prefer they’d be talking. She would be able to read him a lot better if they were talking. 

“I don’t think you should feel bad,” Byleth finally says. “You were a fourteen-year-old tasked with watching a bunch of kids. It was bound to get frustrating.”

“Well, yes,” Seteth mumbles into his salad. “And it certainly was, but I often feel I was especially cruel to you for no particular reason other than I was— I was trying to impress your mother.” He frowns and stabs a few pieces of lettuce. “That doesn’t make much sense, in hindsight.”

Byleth smiles. “Does anything a fourteen-year-old does make sense?”

He chuckles, and she thinks now she’s convinced him she truly doesn’t hold any grudges against him. “I suppose so. I am rather flabbergasted you truly don’t remember any of that. Here I’ve been, agonizing over it since yesterday morning, worrying that you thought I was a monster...”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up. I wouldn’t have gone to lunch with you if I hated you.”

He stabs a piece of Mahi and uses his fork to point it at her, finally looking back up at her. “What if you wanted revenge?”

“Please. I barely had the energy to make twenty copies of a test for Dr. Essar. You think I have the emotional energy for revenge?”

Seteth busts out a fair chuckle for that, and Byleth halts in her eating. It’s... adorable. A dorky laugh. She loves it and she hates that she loves it because she’s only known—reknown? — Seteth for a day. She shouldn’t think his laugh is cute and it shouldn’t make her have butterflies. 

Once he’s calmed down a little, he shoves the bit of Mahi in his mouth and Byleth shoves some taco into her own. They make eye contact and that makes Seteth laugh again, and that makes Byleth laugh. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, once he’s swallowed his Mahi. “That... I’m not certain why, but that certainly tickled my funny bone.”

Byleth is about to give a snarky reply, but then Seteth’s phone goes off. When he picks it up, he frowns. 

“Dammit,” he mumbles. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Seteth doesn’t offer an answer immediately, just taps away. Once he’s finished his reply and set it back down, he sighs. “Flayn’s regular babysitter sprained his ankle at school today. His father wants him resting tonight, so he won’t be able to watch her...” He rubs his chin. He picks his phone back up and starts tapping and scrolling at the screen. “I have a meeting later tonight so I need someone to watch her. I suppose that’s what apps are for...”

“I can watch her.”

Seteth pauses his work on his phone to stare at her. He has an eyebrow cocked, as if the idea of her taking care of a child is so unbelievable. 

She shrugs, which isn’t very convincing. “I watch my niece all the time.”

He blinks. “You have a— never mind. Are you sure? She’s only four. I mean, she has some chores, some activities, she eats a grilled cheese for dinner, takes a bath and goes to bed. Are you sure?”

Byleth nods. “Yeah. I babysat during high school and college too. I can handle her. I’ll text you pictures even.”

He worries his bottom lip with his teeth. He closes his eyes, ponders his options for a moment, then nods. “Alright. I pick her up from daycare at three. My meeting is at five and should run until six-thirty. I suppose... That’s only an hour and a half, not long at all. Does that work for you at all? You don’t have any afternoon classes today?”

She hums and decides not to tell him about her online classes. “I have one that ends at four-thirty and I’m free after that. It can be like a trial run. If she hates me I’ll never babysit again.”

He nods. “I’ll give you our address. Would you feel comfortable driving there?”

She nods. She’s glad he didn’t mention the part about Flayn potentially hating her. “I have a smartphone.”

He nods and lets out a deep sigh. “I truly cannot thank you enough, Byleth.” He frowns at his phone. “I do hope Siegbert will be alright...”

Byleth snorts. “Wait, her babysitter’s name is _Siegbert?_ Who names their kid that?”

Seteth shakes his head. “It’s an old family name, so they’ve told me. He’s a nice boy, you shouldn’t make fun of him.”

“I’m not! Just, you know... My name is Byleth, I have the right to tease about certain names.”

Seteth chuckles. “I suppose that may be true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you, a fool: this fic is three houses based, there will be no mention of siegbert, we are safe here
> 
> me, siegbert's mother: HA


	4. Minecraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4,000 words of Flayn playing Minecraft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to see my little girl.
> 
> (here she comes)

As it turns out, Seteth and Flayn live on the other side of the town to Byleth’s duplex. Thankfully, the university is right in the middle of town, and Garegg Mach is pretty small anyway. After her class, Byleth plugs Seteth’s address into her phone and heads right over. It’s barely a fifteen-minute drive. She gets there with relative ease. Her only obstacle is some asshole on a motorcycle. They’re lucky she inherited her calm demeanor from her mother; if she were more like her father, they might have to deal with her calmly giving them the middle finger instead of her calmly rolling her eyes. 

Seteth’s house is a cute little brick ranch house, not even two stories tall. There’s a driveway and a two-car garage off to the side, but Byleth parks on the street. She doesn’t want to accidentally park behind Seteth’s car and make it impossible for him to get out. 

Their front yard is adorable. With a cute little bench swing, and the little walkway from their driveway lined with plants. They have a lot of plants, actually. Seteth must really like gardening, or maybe one or both of them just likes flowers. 

She rings the doorbell, hearing it echo inside. It takes a few moments, but Seteth eventually opens the door. 

“Byleth, come in,” he says with a smile. It’s not fair, she thinks, because he knew she was coming. He knew she was coming and he still has his hair pulled up in a half ponytail, and he’s got glasses on as well. Since when has he had glasses? She steps inside after him, toeing her shoes off out of respect for his carpet. The entryway leads right into the living room, and they take a few steps into it. “Flayn,” he calls out, “Flayn, come meet Ms. Byleth.”

Goddess, she hasn’t heard him call her that in years. 

A little girl pops her head up from the couch, turning around to get a good look at Byleth. She’s the girl from Seteth’s picture, obviously, with the sweetest eyes and the most beautiful green hair. Seteth motions for her to join them, so she slides off the couch and walks over to them. 

She’s in an oversized shirt and some shorts, a classic childhood outfit. “Hello, Flayn,” Byleth says. “Is it alright if I hang out with you for a little bit?”

Flayn twirls around a little, though her shirt doesn’t billow very much. She would have much better luck in a skirt or a dress. She just stares at the ground though, the poor thing, she must be shy. 

Seteth smiles at her. “Can you introduce yourself to Ms. Byleth?”

Flayn grabs the end of her shirt and bunches it up in her fists. “Hello, um, Miss Bylett. My name is Flayn.” 

Byleth smiles and tries not to bend down to Flayn’s level. That’s rude. “It’s nice to meet you, Flayn. You can call me By By. Can I play with you while your dad does some adult stuff?”

She twists her shirt in her hands but nods all the same. “Daddy said Sieggy got hurt, so he can’t come see me today.”

Seteth ruffles Flayn’s hair and grabs a laptop bag from the couch. “Yes, but he’ll be alright after a few days of rest. Why don’t you make a card for him, with Ms. Byleth? You can show her where your art supplies are.” He turns to Byleth and gives her a soft smile and motions for her to follow him back to the front door. Flayn follows them with tiny steps as well. “I really can’t thank you enough. Ah, she’s already done her chores for the day. She’s welcome to watch some television -- station three only, please -- or play on her iPad if she wants. She’s had an early dinner, as well, but I’ve got some snacks for her in the refrigerator if she gets peckish. I know this was terribly last minute. We can discuss payment when I get back--”

“You bought me lunch,” Byleth says. 

He pauses in his movements, caught off guard by her statement. “Pardon?”

“Today, at lunch. You bought my food.” She crosses her arms and smirks. “Call us even.”

He scoffs. “That doesn’t-- That does not nearly make us even.” He glances at his watch, then gets down on his knee to give Flayn a hug and a kiss. “I’ll be back before bedtime. Be good, okay?”

She giggles and kisses his cheek. “No!” He gives her another kiss, and she hums for a moment. “Okay, I’ll be good.”

“It should only be two hours,” he says as he stands back up. Then, he groans. “It should only be two hours.” He gives Byleth another smile, this one much weaker than the other. “Welcome to teaching.”

They both wave goodbye to him until his car is gone. Byleth looks down at Flayn, who is nervously wringing the hem of her shirt again. Her little toes wriggle on the concrete and it occurs to Byleth that it must be terrifying, to be four years old and left with a stranger. Even if Seteth said Byleth was trustworthy, Flayn still doesn’t know her. 

“Let’s head inside, okay?” Byleth says softly. “I don’t want the bugs to get you.”

Flayn nods her head and walks inside, allowing Byleth to close the door. She hopes no bugs made it inside, but she knows it’s a losing battle. She’ll usher any bug back outside, for Flayn. She’ll protect her. 

“What do you want to do?” Byleth asks. Usually, Jeraldine has a list of a million things she wants to do whenever Byleth watches her. Flayn is nothing like Jeraldine. She doesn’t say anything, just keeps wringing her shirt. “Do you wanna make that card?”

Flayn shakes her head but doesn’t offer any alternatives. This isn’t good. No matter what Byleth offers, Flayn is certainly going to say no. Byleth has to get her doing something familiar. She has to build trust, rapport. She’s just like the farm boy Byleth befriended on her archaeology trip in Zanado three years ago. “What were you doing before I got here?”

“Um, I was... playing Craft...”

Craft? Maybe one of those knockoff Minecraft games. She did have a Minecraft shirt in Seteth’s Facebook picture. Byleth walks over to the couch, where Flayn had been sitting. There’s an iPad sitting there, turned off right now. 

She hands it to Flayn. “Why don’t you keep playing for a little bit? Your dad said you finished all your chores.”

Flayn smiles so brightly that Byleth can’t help smiling back. Surely this means they’ll be alright for at least two hours. Flayn takes the iPad and makes her way back to the couch, where she snuggles right into the cushions. Byleth makes herself comfortable on the loveseat and checks Twitter. 

Truthfully there’s nothing interesting going on on Twitter. There’s some new anime that Byleth won’t watch, but she’ll learn everything about it thanks to the people she follows. There’s a new Spongebob meme making the rounds that will be dust by the end of the week, long before Byleth can get any good use out of it. Byleth’s dad is using a Spongebob meme from a month ago. So, really, there’s nothing interesting going on on Twitter.

Flayn, however, is very interesting. She’s laying out on the couch on her stomach, her feet propped up and kicking in the air. Her little tongue is sticking out of her mouth like she’s solving some kind of difficult problem. Maybe she is. Byleth hasn’t played Minecraft or any of its knockoffs in a while. Maybe Seteth found an educational one with math problems or something. Regardless, it’s a cute sight. Byleth kind of wants to see what she’s doing. 

“Can I watch you?” She asks softly. 

Flayn looks up at her for a moment, her cute little concentration face gone as she thinks. Byleth swears she can see the little gears in her head turning. Can she trust this stranger with her Minecraft secrets? What devious things does that little four-year-old mind hide? 

“Yeah,” she says. So Byleth settles down on the floor beside her, eagerly anticipating whatever action Flayn takes. It’s actual Minecraft, Byleth notices, not some knockoff. Flayn is on a dock, facing a large body of water, with a fishing rod equipped. 

She just fishes. She doesn’t do anything with the fish. She’s on survival mode, so her character will eventually need to eat. Still, she just has a bunch of raw fish stocked up in her inventory. Byleth watches her hunger meter go down, but Flayn doesn’t seem to care. When she needs more room, she goes to some chests and deposits her fish (or trash, because it wouldn’t be fishing in a video game if you didn’t fish up some trash, too) and then goes right back to fishing. When her fishing rod breaks, she just gets another one, pre-crafted and waiting for her in another chest. She fishes for forty-five minutes and Byleth is positively enraptured the entire time. It doesn’t even matter when day changes to night in-game because there are torches absolutely everywhere around her little fishing spot, so no monsters spawn.

It’s poetry. The innocence of childhood. Flayn gets so upset when she gets an enchanted book, which Byleth thinks is a pretty rare item. Something most people would be pretty pumped about getting, but Flayn just puts them in a chest with a plethora of other books. Completely untouched and ignored. She’s only interested in the fish. And what for? She doesn’t cook any of it, just stows it away. She hums when she gets a clownfish, which must be pretty rare because she doesn’t get it as often as the other kinds of fish. She kind of pouts when she gets a pufferfish, which Byleth notices goes in its own special chest. Why? What makes the pufferfish so special? Byleth is absolutely, irrevocably enraptured. 

Without any warning or predisposition that she’s done, Flayn closes the game. “That’s enough for now,” she says. It’s not as though she ran out of bait or anything. There isn’t any bait in Minecraft. She just decided, after forty-five minutes, she was done. That was it. “Can I have a snack?”

Seteth said something about stuff in the fridge, right? “Sure,” Byleth says. “Let’s see what your dad left for you.”

Of course, Byleth doesn’t know where the fridge is in this house. Flayn takes her, and it turns out to just be in the next room over. There’s a little dining table surrounded by cute chairs that blends into countertops and a proper medium-sized kitchen. Still, there’s a dishwasher. That’s more than what Byleth has. 

When she opens the refrigerator, she opens both doors because who even knows where the snacks are, there’s a shelf with a sticky note labeled  _ Snacks for Flayn (and Byleth) _ . That’s cute, Byleth thinks. She will definitely take some pre-cut apple slices. 

“Okay,” Byleth says, “Looks like applesauce, apple slices, and string cheese are some options.”

“Cheese!” Flayn says.

_ Fuck yeah _ , is what Byleth wants to say, but of course, she doesn’t. She won’t be responsible for that conversation. She takes out some string cheese and apple slices and closes the refrigerator. 

They sit together at the table and Flayn happily pulls away at her cheese. Her legs kick happily under her chair as she focuses on what Byleth can only imagine is the most challenging thing in her little life. 

“What do you do with all those fish?” Byleth asks, after finishing a slice. 

“What fish?” Flayn asks.

“In your game.”

She holds some of the cheese up and then drops it in her mouth. “Uh, my uncles cook it and eat it.”

“They just take it from you?”

“Nu-uh! They build me stuff in return.”

Byleth hums and nods her head as if that is absolutely a perfectly acceptable rate of exchange. Hell, maybe it is in Minecraft. “So, you play Minecraft with your uncles often?”

She nods her head and swings her legs harder. “They have a whole city with villagers and farms and they made me a whole mansion! They got me a kitty and pony and a garden...”

As Flayn finishes her snack, Byleth hears all about the Minecraft house her uncles built for her. It’s extensive, from the sound of it. Her own little lake, which is where Byleth was watching her fish. A garden that's full of flowers organized by colors at Flayn’s insistence (and Byleth can’t help but wonder if her real-life backyard is in a similar state). A stable full of multiple ponies, not just one! A little girl’s dream. Oddly enough, Flayn doesn’t seem to care much about the inside, other than her ‘kitty’. Byleth doesn’t remember if Minecraft has housecats or just the ocelots. Honestly, she hopes it’s the ocelot either way.

“That’s wicked cool,” Byleth says. She pushes the last of her apples to Flayn, who eagerly eats it. 

“Yeah, Flayn says. “Wicked cool.”

She finishes the last bit of apple in silence, thoughtfully munching away while staring at a corner. It reminds Byleth of a cat. Is she staring at nothing? Does she see a ghost? Who knows. Then, once the apple is done, Flayn looks up at Byleth and gives her a shy smile. “Do you wanna see my craft stuff?”

“Oh, for sure, kiddo. What cool stuff do you got?”

Flayn leads her downstairs. There’s a piano down there (and, come to think of it, Byleth is pretty sure she saw one upstairs somewhere too) but past that is an alcove decked out into the ultimate kids’ area. Multicolored foam tile, pink and turquoise shelves, a miniature table and chairs, and even an adorable little kid-sized recliner (currently occupied by a sleeping tortoiseshell cat). There’s a little desk in the corner and a little entertainment stand full of DVDs and with a little flat-screen on it. Byleth wishes she got her own flat-screen when she was four. 

Seteth could afford all this on a professor’s salary? No goddess damned way. 

Flayn walks over to one of the shelves and starts pulling out some colored paper. She puts it on the little table, then gets some markers and stickers out of her desk. “This is only some of my stuff,” she explains. She plays with her hair, smoothing it down with her hands. “But these will be good for a card. Oh! And some glitter.”

She pulls some jars of glitter out of her desk. Honestly, Byleth is most surprised that Seteth doesn’t have that under lock and key. That’s the most dangerous thing out of any art supplies. 

Flayn spreads out all of the sheets of paper, pursing her lips like this is the most important decision of her life. Finally, she picks red and folds it neatly in half. She’s way too focused for a four-year-old, Byleth thinks. 

“How do you spell, ‘Feel better, Sieggy,’?” Flayn asks. 

_ Shit _ , is all Byleth can think because fuck her if she knows how to spell this kid’s name. So she grabs one of the other sheets of paper and spells it out for Flayn and just hopes she gets it right. If not, she can just blame it on Flayn being four years old, right? That’s how it works right?

“There you go,” Byleth says. “Is that all you want to say?”

Flayn shakes her head as she transcribes the words. Her handwriting is shaky since all she’s really doing is copying shapes, but it’s legible. “I wanna say... ‘Come play with me soon!’ With the excited mark!”

Byleth writes that down, too. Once Flayn is happy with the words, she starts drawing little stick figures and putting stickers and glitter all over the card. Poor little Siegbert will never know what hit him when he opens this. Byleth wishes she could be there to warn him. 

“I can spell this... ‘Love, Flayn!’” Incredibly, she does, in fact, spell it correctly. Well, her father is an English professor. “Now you sign it too!”

She shoves the card towards Byleth and smiles widely up at her. As if it’s perfectly normal for an adult to sign a get well card for a teenager she doesn’t know just because she’s subbing in for babysitting for him. 

She can’t say  _ no _ to Flayn, not when she’s smiling so sweetly and Byleth really wants her to like her for no ulterior reason whatsoever, so she signs it. And below her signature, so this Siegbert kid doesn’t think she’s a creep, she writes in parentheses ‘Substitute Babysitter.’

“What does that say?” Flayn asks. 

“Substitute Babysitter. Just so he knows who I am. He’s never met me before.” Just to appease Flayn, too, she puts a sticker of a flower next to her name. 

“You never met Sieggy?” Flayn gasps. She puts another sticker on the card, and Byleth follows suit. “He’s so nice! Sometimes he lets me watch PG movies.”

_ Woah _ , Byleth thinks that’s maybe she should bring up to Seteth. PG movies? That’s serious. That’s basically an R rating. 

“What kind of PG movies?” She tries to think of the last kids’ movie she saw. She hasn’t been to a theatre in a while, actually. She usually rents movies, unless it’s something her dad wants to see too. She saw the latest princess movie, that one was cute. Maybe Flayn is into that. 

“Like  _ Matilda _ !” Flayn says. She puts one last sticker on the card and then closes it. “That’s enough. I like  _ Matilda _ . She beats up that mean old teacher!” Flayn stands up from her chair and punches and kicks the air, making the appropriate punching and kicking noises as she goes. Byleth is pretty sure that doesn’t happen in  _ Matilda  _ but Flayn is pretty cute with her fake karate moves. 

“And I bet I could eat that whole cake too!” She spins around a few times, ultimately becoming too dizzy and falling on the foam tile floor. The soft  _ thump  _ wakes up the cat on the toddler recliner. She pokes her little head up and smells around the room. 

Byleth coos at her. “Who is this?”

Flayn stands back up and walks over to her, patting her head gently. “This is Badb. She’s mommy’s kitty.”

Oh, Seteth’s wife. Byleth never did figure out what happened, other than she obviously died somehow. She figures it really isn’t her business. If she’s meant to find out, she will. Either Seteth will tell her or Facebook will. 

Flayn keeps petting Badb, which is the oddest name for a cat Byleth has ever heard. She’s doing a good job of it, if the loud purring is anything to go by. It’s downright adorable, and Byleth nearly misses the  _ slam _ of a door closing, coming from upstairs. It hasn’t been two hours already, has it? There’s no way. 

Flayn hears it, too, and rushes upstairs with the card for Siegbert. “Daddy!” She calls out. “Daddy look at the card we made!”

Poor Badb looks so sad, with Flayn gone. Maybe that’s just her face. Byleth takes pity on her, letting her smell her hand before picking her up and taking her upstairs. She gives her a few head scratches on the way up, and Badb gives her a few purrs in returns. 

Sure enough, Seteth has returned miraculously early. He’s got Flayn on his hip and the card in his hand and those damned glasses still on. “It’s lovely,” he says. “I’m sure Siegbert will love it.”

Seteth looks up and smiles at Byleth. “I see you’ve found Badb. I was wondering if she would show up for you. She’s very shy.” He reaches out to give her a few scratches, which she seems to very much enjoy. “The meeting was a disaster, as you might have guessed. I feel terrible; honestly, there was hardly any need to call you out here.”

Byleth shakes her head. “Oh, hush. Flayn and I had a great time, didn’t we, Flayn?”

Flayn shoots her arms up in dual fist pumps. “Yeah! Daddy, she likes Craft, too!”

Well, that may be an exaggeration, but Byleth did watch Flayn play for nearly an hour. Seteth shakes his head and sets her down. She must be too heavy for his old man body. “Is that so? Perhaps you two can play together sometime.”

Flayn nods. “Yeah!”

Byleth chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve played since u ndergrad... and definitely not legally...”

Flayn reaches up and gently grabs one of her arms. Byleth sets Badb down, just in case. “We can go mining and you can protect me! I love mining but it’s so scary!”

Byleth covers her heart with one of her hands and gives Flayn a serious nod. “I’ll protect you with my life, my lady Flayn.”

She giggles. After a moment, Seteth tells her to go settle down in the living room so he and Byleth can talk. Which means they’ll be talking alone, without Flayn. Probably about serious adult stuff. She leaves them, leaves Byleth, even taking Badb with her.

“Thank you, truly,” Seteth says. “I’m rather disappointed in my students for how that meeting, well...  _ didn’t  _ turn out—”

“Oh, you got stood up, then?” She regrets it as soon as she says it. Certainly that’s not the sort of thing you to someone you’re trying to be friends with. At least, not on the second day of knowing them. Reknowing them. 

He scoffs and his lips twitch into a slight smile. “In a manner of speaking.” He pushes his glasses up and then sticks his hands in his pockets. “I should have just made it a Skype meeting in the first place.” He shakes his head. “But enough about that. How was she?”

“She was great.” Byleth shrugs. “Way better than my niece. Like, I didn’t lose sight of her once. She was really shy at first, but once I got her talking about Minecraft she opened right up.”

Seteth shakes his head. “I don’t understand it... my brothers are the ones that introduced her to that game. I play with her sometimes, but I’m not of their caliber. I don’t know if you pay attention to YouTube at all but they have a channel and...” he tapers off, eventually just waving his hand in the air. “Anyway, they were babysitting one day and thought she would enjoy it. She loves the fishing, I’m sure you saw.”

Byleth chuckles. “Oh yeah. She fished for forty-five minutes straight.”

“I’m not surprised,” Seteth says with a smile. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I know you weren’t here for long, but let me give you something.”

Byleth puts her hand on his, halting his movement. She can tell he’s got his fingers around a crisp twenty. Goddess does she want that twenty, but it doesn’t feel right. 

“Byleth—“

“Take me out to lunch again,” she says with a shrug. “If it really bothers you that much.”

She thinks it’s a trick of the lighting, but he blushes. It can’t be a trick, how could it be a trick? There’s no way it’s a trick. The damned lighting doesn’t change so how could it be a trick? He blushes, actually blushes, and she damns herself. She’s laying it on too thick, and she doesn’t even know what  _ it _ is. 

But the blessed man nods and puts his wallet away. “Alright,” he says. “Alright.”

Byleth walks back out to the living to say goodbye to Flayn. She says goodbye back, even calls her By By!, and then Byleth says goodbye to Seteth and is on her way. 

If you asked her what music was playing on her way back home, she couldn’t tell you. She was way too focused on the feeling of Seteth’s hands below her own. They felt so warm, so large. Her hands were on top of his, and yet his dwarfed hers completely. Later that night, she imagines what it might be like if those hands touched her in other places, and she wonders if maybe she needs to seriously reevaluate where she intends for this friendship to go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed Seteth's (and, by proxy, Flayn's) last name in chapter two from d'Embleme to Feathal. Credit to @bees_ink on twitter for the idea. Also, for those of you that have read Waterloo before 9/25/19, I changed the name of Flayn's mom from Assal to Morrigan to fit that Irish #aesthetic. Also to partially explain why the hell she named her cat Badb. 
> 
> Please don't name your cat Badb. Name your crow Badb.


	5. The Blind Wyvern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth prepares for faculty game night but is it a date??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.... long time no see...... I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update. I've been dealing with some Mental Health(tm) stuff, and it's really taken a toll on my writing (both in my drive to write and my confidence in writing). So I can of sat down today and said fuck it. I'm put chapter 5 out today.
> 
> I'm sorry if it's not up to snuff with the previous chapters. I haven't beta'd it yet, but I'll probably come back through and reread it for minor stuff. Also it ended up being a little shorter than I thought just because I moved some dialogue to the next chapter. Notes cont. at the end for spoilers reasons.

_ Are you free tonight? _

The message comes a few days after Byleth had babysat Flayn. Things had operated as normal since then, except for whatever it was going on in her head that occurred when she was around Seteth. Perhaps it was simply her realizing she came off a bit too strongly, that she didn’t even quite realize what she was even being strong about, but their conversations had become... lacking. At least, in person. Byleth likes to think it’s merely because they only have a few short moments to chat between his class ending and hers beginning, and rarely do they otherwise see one another. Their Facebook messages are lively enough. Anyone would think they were two friends, chatting away. Probably. She truly is trying to at least be friends. 

_ Professor Manuela has scheduled a faculty game night. Typically graduate students don’t come along, but I was thinking we could make an exception if you would come as my plus one? _

That’s a date, is Byleth’s first thought. That’s irrevocably, undeniably a date. Why else would he call it a plus one situation? It has Byleth dropping her grading pen and putting her face in her hands. 

She hasn’t felt like this in ages. Is it even a feeling? Her heart is just pounding and her face is red and she sort of wants to scream, but she doesn’t know that she _ feels _ one way or the other. Is she excited? Mad? Does she _ want _to go on a date with Seteth? 

“Are you alright?” Linhardt, barely peaking his head into Byleth’s office, says. “You’re squeaking...”

She covers her mouth. “I’m fine.” He ducks his head back, but she waves her arm at him. “Wait, wait, come here.”

He doesn’t even get out of his chair. It’s got wheels, so he just rolls it over until he’s in her door frame. “What?”

She rubs her temples. “So, uh, do you have a girlfriend?”

He raises an eyebrow and slumps down in his seat. “Bold of you to assume I’m straight.”

“Let me rephrase: do you have someone you go on dates with? And if you don’t, for whatever personal reasons, I’m sorry in advance for prying.”

He hums and redirects his attention to his nails. “Kind of.”

Well, that’s a lot to unpack, but Byleth doesn’t have the time. “How does dating work these days?”

That gets his attention back on her. He looks at her like he thinks she’s kidding, then says, “You’re like three years older than me.”

She isn’t kidding, is the thing. “I haven’t dated anyone since I was your age. And, well, I didn’t exactly have the best track record.”

Linhardt scoffs and starts to spin back and forth in his chair. “I dunno. Go to a coffee shop? See a movie together. My idiot usually gets in fights, so I take him to the clinic a lot. That’s hardly a date, though.”

Yeah, that doesn’t sound like much of a date at all. 

“So, if someone were to invite me to something as a plus one, that would be considered a date, right?”

“I would say it depends. Dinner? Certainly. Wedding? Absolutely. Murder party? Perhaps not.”

Byleth has to give him a soft smile for that. “He hasn’t said yet what it is other than faculty game night. I’ll have to keep you posted.”

Linhardt hums and starts to return to his post at the front computer. “If it’s anything like I hear about Dr. Essar’s faculty game nights, it may just be a murder party.”

_ I’m down. Sounds like fun. _

_ Wonderful. I can’t be indebted to you forever. I’ll pick you up at 7 if that’s alright? What’s your address? _

Oh, it’s definitely a date.

\--

_ I should warn you that you should wear long jeans. _

It’s almost ominous. A text, a warning, that comes from Seteth out of nowhere. She almost wants to tease him. Since when does faculty game night have a dress code? Instead, she just sends back a simple _ alright _, because honestly she’s too nervous and would teasing him put him off? She’s concerned. Putting him off is the last thing she wants to do. There’s a lot that’s kind of weird about potentially dating Seteth, but there’s a lot more that’s good. The fact that he wants to take her out as his plus one is a good sign that he thinks the same, right? So she can’t ruin that by teasing him too much.

She finds the best pair of jeans she owns -- which, really, if just what fits the best and doesn’t ride up on her ass too badly -- and tries to find a cute blouse too. Seteth didn’t really elaborate on what faculty game night entailed for tonight. Dr. Essar has mentioned it before. It changes, depending on whose turn it is. Sometimes they just visit someone’s house and do board games, a traditional game night. Sometimes they do escape rooms. They pretty much always get drunk. 

Byleth wonders what Seteth is like drunk. Is he going to get drunk? If he’s bringing Byleth, surely he plans to drive her home as well... unless he means to stay at her place? Or does he want to take her home? Does Flayn have a babysitter? Is she with her uncles?

Her thoughts are interrupted by the ping of a text: Seteth’s announcement that he’s arrived. Byleth knows that Alois is gone for the night, off with his own work friends, but his wife and daughter are still home so she doesn’t bother with setting the alarm. She just locks up her part of the duplex and heads down the stairs. 

She’s expecting a hatchback car, from Seteth. That’s what she remembers from when she babysat Flayn a week ago. It’s something that would allow him to have ample room for Flayn’s undoubted various needs while still being fairly compact and fuel-efficient. Very Seteth. When she reaches her driveway, there is no hatchback at all. In fact, other than her own car and Alois’s wife’s car, there are no cars in her driveway. 

Instead, Seteth is standing next to a _ motorcycle, _ a helmet under his arm, and another on the seat. He looks up at her and smiles. “Ah, hello. I wasn’t certain if I should wait for you or ring the doorbell.”

She’s awestruck. By the grin on his face, he’s well aware of it too. Did he choose to forgo a regular car on purpose? Is he trying to impress her? Good goddess, is the man _ flexing _?

“You drive a motorcycle?” Byleth hopes she doesn’t sound as incredulous as she is. She doesn’t want Seteth to think she isn’t confident in his capabilities, although... she doesn’t know that she is. 

He smiles at her, his eyes softening. Byleth would bet he gets asked this question often, and usually gets annoyed by it. He doesn’t seem annoyed now. “I do, yes. Though not nearly as often as I used to.”

“So, you’re saying you’re not as good now?”

He chuckles and puts the helmet that is in his hands on Byleth’s head. “I’m saying Flayn is too small for a sidecar.”

Byleth doubts that Seteth would actually ever put Flayn in a sidecar, but the image is certainly adorable. Maybe he’d let her ride along on a little scooter. Byleth herself has never ridden on a motorcycle in her life, something she doesn’t even bother to tell Seteth because it must be _ obvious _ at that point. She lets him take care of making sure her helmet is on correctly, lets him guide her into sitting on the damn thing right, and then wraps her arms around him so tight that he laughs at her. Actually laughs at her! She squeezes him even harder for it. 

“You’re safe with me,” he promises her, “No harm will come to you.”

She’s about to snark at him, but he revs the engine, so her voice is lost over the sound. She rests her head against his back, between his shoulder blades, and tries not to scream when they suddenly move forward. 

It’s like riding a roller coaster with no tracks. She has no idea what direction they’ll go, when they’ll get off, if any of the cars will respect their space. At the same time, though, it’s... sort of nice? The wind rushing around her, being pressed against Seteth, holding him close to her... She can kind of see why people romanticize motorcycles a little. 

When they do finally stop, they’re at The Blind Wyvern, a local brewery. Byleth comes here with her dad all the time. She doesn’t really know what’s here for a game night, though. It’s really just a place for food and beer. 

Oh goddess, what if Byleth and Seteth are here for a dinner date first and game night later? He didn’t warn her about that. 

They walk in and the host smiles right at them. Byleth recognizes the damn kid, too. He’s in her class. Claude von Riegan: a bit of a clown, but he does his work and he does it well, so Byleth lets his jokes slide. 

“Hey, my two favorite professors.” His eyes flit between them and he grins mischievously. “Here on a date?”

Bless the man, Seteth doesn’t even blink. “We’re here for Reservation Casagranda.”

Claude’s grin doesn’t leave, but he does check his clipboard. “Oh ho! Party Room 2! Do you need an escort?”

“We’ll be fine, thank you, Claude.” Seteth motions for Byleth to follow him. He weaves his way between the tables of The Blind Wyvern with ease, heading for the back of the restaurant towards two doors that Byleth has never bothered to notice before. Which is dumb. The Blind Wyvern is a very popular restaurant, of course they would have party rooms available for rent. 

Maybe part of why she feels a little dumb, too, is because she’s a little disappointed that this isn’t a dinner date before the game night. Just a smidge, though. 

People cheer when the door opens. Byleth is taken aback because no one has ever _ cheered _ for her when she’s entered a room. It’s quite strange. 

“Seteth, my boy!” Dr. Hanneman Essar, Byleth’s advising professor, says. “When you mentioned bringing a plus one, I didn’t anticipate it would be my graduate student.”

“Seteth’s got a date?” Byleth nearly bolts right then, because that’s another voice she recognizes. Only this one is bound to bring far worse embarrassment than Hanneman. This is no advising professor -- this is_ Alois _. “What-- Well, if it isn’t my little Byleth!”

“Alois--!” She squeaks, but he’s already got her in a hug, picking her up off the ground. She’s absolutely mortified. Why on earth is Alois at Seteth’s faculty game night? She knows why Hanneman is here, she knows how Seteth knows him. How does Seteth know Alois?

“You, uh, you know one another?” Seteth asks, reading her mind. 

“She’s my goddaughter!” Alois shouts loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. “My pride and joy, other than my very own Jeraldine!” Finally, he sets her back on the ground. 

She chuckles nervously. “Uh, yeah. Can’t believe you can still pick me up...” She gives Seteth a shaky smile. “Uh, remember I mentioned babysitting my niece all the time? I meant his daughter. She’s not technically my actual niece, but she basically is, so...”

“I see--”

A waitress comes in at that moment, followed by two more women. The waitress is carrying a platter of multiple alcoholic beverages -- beer and margaritas, it looks like -- and honestly that has Byleth’s attention far more than the women do. At least, until one of them calls out her name. 

“Well, if it isn’t little By-By!” 

Byleth tears her eyes away from the drinks and looks over to the woman who calls her name. She has long, light green hair; light green eyes, and a soft smile like, “Miss Rhea?”

Her smile brightens, and Byleth notices that Seteth steps closer to her side, as if to protect her. “Wow! I can’t believe you remember me! You must have been eight or nine when you last saw me. What a beautiful woman you’ve grown up into.”

Byleth blushes. Before she can say anything, the woman at Rhea’s side huffs and Rhea clicks her tongue teasingly. “Hush, Catherine... She’s here as my brother’s plus one tonight...”

“I was only teasing,” the woman named Catherine mumbles, “She's way too young for you.”

At the same moment, Byleth looks up at Seteth, who is pointedly looking away. “You and Rhea are siblings?”

“Would you like a drink?” He asks instead. “I won’t, of course, but you’re more than welcome to have something.”

“Don’t be so rude, Seteth!” Rhea chastises, but she’s smiling all the same. She’s playing a little game with him. It’s almost cute. “It’s a simple question!” She looks at Byleth and gives her that same smile. “Yes, we’re siblings. He’s my little brother. Isn’t he precious?” She reaches out and pinches his cheek, which he does not seem to appreciate at all. “I practically raised him and our other brothers all myself!”

Oh. That holds some implications that maybe Seteth was trying to avoid Byleth knowing. Now it sort of makes sense was he was trying to skirt around the topic. He’s not ready to share that with her. That’s fine. 

“Yes, he’s very sweet,” Byleth says. “I wouldn’t mind a margarita. Let’s get something.”

“Excellent,” Seteth says. 

Rhea and Catherina follow behind them to grab some drinks. After a few more moments of chattering between them all, Catherine finally points out the elephant in the room. “So, uh, is Manuela gonna make it or what?”

Byleth has heard about Manuela from Hanneman. They were married, in their youth, and remain good friends despite their constant feuds. According to Seteth, tonight was her turn to pick the faculty game night activities. 

“Oh, she’s here,” Hanneman says. “Take a gander on where.”

Everyone, except for Byleth and Hanneman, immediately look under the table where the drinks are sitting. Byleth, after a brief moment of wondering why they’re doing that, also looks. 

Byleth has only seen pictures of Manuela Casagranda, but she can certainly recognize her lying on the floor, entirely smashed. 

“So, uh,” Catherine says, “What do we do?”

Alois clears his throat. “I brought Super Mario Party.”

All at once, everyone bursts into some sort of annoyance. Alois, as it turns out, _ always _ brings Super Mario Party to faculty game night, for whatever reason. Most of the time they don’t end up playing it, just teasing him for always bringing it, but he’s a dad so, of course, he’s always got a backup. Super Mario Party is a good back up. 

And Dammit, they have a great time. Manuela even wakes up part of the way through and joins in. Byleth drinks some more margaritas. Once she’s had a few too many, Seteth even lets her lean on him in a way that makes Rhea coo at them. 

“You should invite her to family brunch,” she hears Rhea whisper. 

“You should pay attention to the game,” Seteth whispers back.

The second game ends with Manuela and Hanneman drunkenly yelling at one another about cheating. Alois is having a blast, recording the entire thing. Rhea and Catherine are trying to finish off the pizza they ordered earlier, completely ignoring everything else that’s happening. Byleth has no idea what the fight is about because she’s way too focused on the feeling of Seteth’s fingers combing through her hair. Byleth hasn’t ever really had her hair played with, not since she was little. Seteth is just running his hands through it, petting her head, but she feels so comfortable that she could fall asleep right here. 

“It’s quite late,” he says. “Would you like me to take you home?”

She wonders if that might include a goodnight kiss. If they beat Alois home, maybe. Shit, she wonders if Alois has texted her dad at all tonight. Will she get texts from her dad tomorrow? Embarrassing, ‘_ Did you remember to be safe haha love you kiddo?’ _ texts? She remembers those from her last girlfriend. They were... not fun. Goddess, she loves her father, but he can be a bit much sometimes. 

“Byleth?” He prompts her. She must be dozing off more than she thought. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “I don’t think they watered down their margaritas tonight.”

He chuckles. “You may blame Manuela, for that. She gets angry at them if she can tell the drinks are watered down. Well, and I’m sure she paid handsomely for them. This place isn’t exactly cheap.” He stands and helps her stand as well. It’s nice because she certainly needs it. 

“Leaving so soon?” Alois asks. He raises an eyebrow at them, giving Byleth a pointed look. Then, he laughs. “Ah, I only tease. I know she’s in good hands with you, Seteth. You didn’t bring her on your bike, did you?”

“He did!” Byleth says. “It was so scary, Alois!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Seteth says as he loops their arms together. “It was your first time on a bike, wasn’t it? The first time is always the scariest. I’ll go slower for you, on the way home.”

Byleth hums and wraps her other arm around Seteth’s arm, too. Behind her, Rhea giggles, though Byleth didn’t hear the joke. “Okay.”

He does go slower, which is good. It gives Byleth more time to hold him close. To press herself against him. Even with the excuse that she’s drunk, her intentions are clear. They’re not dirty intentions, sexual in any way. Sleeping with him isn’t on her mind at all, though it certainly was before. No, all that’s on her mind now is being close to him. That’s all. So being on his motorcycle, pressed against his back, is really more than what she wants at that moment. 

She’s nearly sad when they get back to her house and she has to get off the bike. She has to let go of Seteth, remove her helmet. As soon as both of their helmets are off, though, he pulls her into a hug. 

“I enjoyed our time together, tonight,” he says softly.

“Me too. I’m sorry I underestimated their alcohol and got kind of drunk.”

He laughs. “It’s alright. I think you’re overestimating how drunk you are. I don’t know that you’re that far gone.”

She’s about to comment that, no, she is in fact very drunk, when another thought comes to her mind: “Wait,” Byleth says, her eyebrows scrunched together. She lets out a soft burp that tastes like her various margaritas and Seteth chuckles at her. “Why did you make me wear jeans?”

Now his eyebrows scrunch together, and his head cocks to the side. “What do you mean?” 

She gestures down to her jeans in all their acid wash glory. “You told me to wear long jeans in your text but we didn’t do anything that needed them!”

He covers his mouth and tries not to laugh at her. He fails miserably. “The motorcycle, Byleth. You can’t wear shorts or thin fabrics on a motorcycle; you’ll get burned.”

Her hands come right up to her face, covering her mouth in her sudden surprise. “Fuck! You ride a motorcycle! I totally forgot!”

He laughs and wraps his arms around her shoulders before kissing the top of her head. It’s awfully brazen of him, considering they’ve hardly talked at all about anything. As a matter of fact, it seems the people around them have done more talking about them than they have. It feels nice, though, and even drunk Byleth can’t deny that she wants nothing more than the enveloped in Seteth’s arms. 

“You’re getting cold. Let’s get you inside, Byleth.”

How unfair, she thinks, because she’s entirely too convinceable when drunk. Seteth easily leads her back to her front door and inside, where he kisses her head again and says goodbye to her. That’s it. No goodbye kiss, not on the lips. She closes the screen door, to keep in the warm air, and watches him drive away on his motorcycle. She doesn’t leave her spot for a while after he’s gone. Mostly because she’s drunk, and not at all because she’s pining. She finally heads upstairs to her apartment because Alois’s truck pulls into the driveway and she does _ not _ want to get stuck in that conversation. 

She thinks about Rhea said, though. About Seteth inviting her to family brunch. She wonders if he would. She wonders what their family brunches are like. Probably regal, and dignified. Do they go somewhere, eat out? Or do they cook at home, with everyone contributing something to the table? Would Byleth be expecting to bring something, if she were invited? Goddess, maybe it would be better if she didn’t go. She would burn her eggs or pancakes or whatever she would bring and then his family would hate her forever. Yeah, it’s probably better if he never invites her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize faculty game night ended up being pretty anti-climactic. I wasn't sure if that would be upsetting for some people or not, since this is a Setleth focused fic and not like a character study fic. That said, if people do want more focus on what happened during drunk SMP I can go into it. I just ended up wanting to move dialogue I had planned for FGN to the next chapter! So that's why FGN, unfortunately, got a bit of the chop. 
> 
> Special thanks to Bee for the idea that mod au Seteth rides a motorcycle!!!


	6. Family Brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wouldn't you know it, Byleth does get invited to family brunch. Things don't exactly go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!! Lightly edited because sometimes you just have to posted something as soon as it's done, you know.
> 
> cw mentions/discussions of character death (Byleth's mother and Seteth's wife), Rhea Being Kind of a Dick

It should come as no surprise that Byleth does, in fact, get invited to family brunch. The invite comes during a shared lunch, in between classes and office hours. Seteth is nervously picking at his salad, nearly refusing to speak in complete sentences despite the fact that he invited Byleth out in the first place.

“What’s bothering you?” She asks him. Her burger goes ignored, for now. Whatever is on Seteth’s mind is much more interesting. 

Rather than answer, Seteth lets out a sigh. “Rhea seems to have been quite serious about you attending our next family brunch. She’s told our brothers about you. That wouldn’t be a problem, except...” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Flayn overheard and Rhea said you’d be coming.”

Byleth has been over to see Flayn a few more times, even babysit a few times more as well. The young girl is enamored with Byleth, ever since she brought her laptop and bought Minecraft. Byleth only wanted to play along with Flayn, maybe fish together. It just looked like fun! She didn’t anticipate becoming the four-year old’s best friend. 

“So... Now Flayn is expecting me to be there,” Byleth says slowly. She looks out the cafeteria window and wonders how quickly she can move back to Enbarr. 

“Rhea has an agenda all of her own,” Seteth grumbles. He pauses for longer than Byleth anticipates and looks far too lost in thought when she looks back at him. He looks sad, deeply hurt, and Byleth wonders just how far Rhea is willing to push her siblings. “You don’t have to come. Perhaps we can have dinner some other time, with Flayn, to make it up to her--”

“No, I’ll go,” Byleth says, with no malicious intent whatsoever. “When is it?”

Seteth’s shock at her answer is quickly replaced with a grimace. “This Sunday.”

Byleth nods. “It’ll be fun. I promise not to do anything embarrassing.”

Poor Seteth doesn’t look like he quite believes her, but Byleth can’t really blame him. She’s a troublemaker, her dad always says. She’s bound to say or do something stupid and make a fool of herself and then Seteth’s family will hate her. Maybe she’ll forget which spoon is the soup spoon. 

She can’t wig herself out. She’s finally decided she wants to _ be _ with Seteth. If family brunch is part of it, then dammit, she’ll do family brunch. Embarrassing silverware mix-ups and all. 

\---

Sunday turns out to be gloomy, rainy, but Seteth picks Byleth up at ten and Flayn is all smiles when she sees her. It makes Byleth feel better about the whole ordeal. 

“You look nice,” Seteth says with a smile. He’s got a button-up with a cute little fish print, and some nice slacks. Flayn looks like she has on her Sunday best. Which, well, it is Sunday. 

Byleth’s Sunday best is a floral mid-length a-line dress with a cute white lace shawl. Toss some cute pumps and some makeup on and it looks like she actually put effort into her appearance. 

“Thank you,” she says with a smile. “You look handsome as well.” 

Seteth puts his hand on the gear change, but his eyes stay on Byleth. He doesn’t even change gear, just stares at her. She could swear he’s about to lean forward--

“Let’s go!” Flayn cries. “I wanna see Uncle Indie!”

Seteth’s head drops and he sighs. Byleth only chuckles, and settles back into her seat and puts her seatbelt on. She didn’t realize she had been leaning forward too. 

Family brunch turns out to take place at a restaurant, not at anyone’s house. It’s not even a local restaurant. It’s definitely a chain, though not one that Byleth has been to before. Their slogan touts that they’re just like home cooking, but Byleth will be the judge of that. She’s quite the food critic, after all. 

As soon as Flayn is out of her car seat, she dashes forward in the parking lot and gives Seteth a heart attack. They parked close to the front of the restaurant, and thankfully the church rush hasn’t started just yet, so she’s not in much of any danger of being hit. Still, to have one’s toddler dart out of one’s arm and into a stranger’s legs is quite frightening. 

At least, Byleth assumed they were a stranger until they picked Flayn up and tossed her into the air. The stranger, at least to Byleth, is tall and has green hair. So, maybe he is related to them. 

“Macuil,” Seteth sighs in relief. “My brother,” he explains to Byleth as he locks up the car. They walk over to the duo together, where Macuil now has Flayn secure in his arms. 

“Hello, Seteth,” Macuil says. Flayn gives Macuil and a big kiss on his cheek, pushing his glasses out of the way. Macuil tries his best not to grin but fails. “Indech and Rhea are inside and seated already.”

“Poor Indech,” Seteth mumbles. Flayn giggles. “Don’t tell your aunt I said that.”

Flayn makes a motion to zip her lips, and Macuil smirks at her. He looks at Byleth then, and hums, but doesn’t say anything. When he turns around to open the door to the restaurant, Byleth looks at Seteth. He seems pleased, so everything must be going well so far. Dammit, should she have asked Seteth for a rundown on his brothers? 

When they get to their table, Macuil places Flayn in a booster seat, then sits across from her. Next to him is another man, who must be Indech, and Seteth sits across from him. Byleth sits next to Seteth, which sits her across from Rhea. Rhea smiles at Byleth with such a radiance that Byleth nearly feels like this was a mistake after all. 

“Alright, phones everyone,” Rhea says with her smile. She places her own phone at the center of the table, face down. Oh, goddess, this is one of _ those _ family brunches. The two other men comply as well, and Seteth shoots Byleth an apologetic glance as he sets his own phone down. “Byleth, you don’t have to set your phone down, if you don’t want to.”

Byleth shakes her head and digs her phone out. She wants to make a good impression, so she sets her phone on do not disturb and puts it facedown on the table. “It’s alright,” she says, “I’m not expecting any big calls or anything.”

Rhea’s smile blooms. Point Byleth. “Have you two met Byleth before?” She asks, turning to Indech and Macuil. They were fighting over a piece of complimentary cornbread. 

“I met her just outside,” Macuil says. 

“That doesn’t count.” Rhea pouts. “Boys, this is Byleth, Seteth’s girlfriend--”

Seteth reaches a hand out. “We’re not nearly that official Rhea.”

For all that it’s worth, Seteth is right. Byleth isn’t even hurt by it, because he is right. They haven’t kissed properly yet, or even expressed that they _ want _ to be official. The interest is certainly there, Rhea has certainly picked up on it, but they haven’t actually talked about anything. So, rather than feeling hurt by Seteth’s words, she feels defensive by Rhea’s assumptions. 

Rhea, unfortunately, speaks up before Byleth can. “Don’t be rude, Seteth. You brought her to family brunch!”

“At _ your _ insistence,” he huffs right back. 

Oh, goddess, this is already going back. She puts her arms on the table, as if to place a wall between Seteth and Rhea. “So, uh, yeah. Just casually seeing each other. So, uh, you’re Macuil and Indech, then?”

Indech seems mortified, while Macuil looks as though he’s watching the most boring tennis match known to mankind. “Yes, that’s us,” Macuil says. 

Seteth leans back in his chair, realizing he’d gotten worked up. Rhea doesn’t move, but one person calming down is better than none. Byleth will take it as a win. “So, uh, your parents were really into Saint Indech and Saint Macuil, then? What about the others?”

Indech sneaks the piece of cornbread to Flayn, now that Macuil is distracted. “Oh, they’re represented. I take it Seteth hasn’t told you his actual name?”

Byleth blinks and turns to Seteth. “Is Seteth a nickname?”

“My middle name,” he groans. “My first name is Cichol.”

Rhea gives an airy giggle. “Rhea is my middle name as well -- Seiros is my first name.” She gives Byleth a wink. “I decided I didn’t want to work for the church with that name, and it’s just followed me ever since.”

“Oh,” Byleth says. She didn’t really ask, but alright. She turns to Seteth. “You don’t like being named after Saint Cichol?”

“It’s fine,” he says. “It’s just... When I was younger, it felt more like a burden?” He sighs. “Which is why Flayn’s first name is Flayn and _ her _ middle name is Cethleann.”

Byleth chuckles. “Still keeping with family tradition?”

He nods. 

Their waiter comes by and drops off some drink orders, Rhea having even ordered ahead for them. Everyone except for Indech (and Flayn, of course), gets a round of mimosas. Indech, as it turns out, is only nineteen. An actual baby. 

Byleth doesn’t ever find out why Macuil and Indech go by their first names and not their middle names. Maybe they don’t have middle names. Maybe their parents learned from Rhea and Seteth and didn’t give Macuil and Indech an alternative. 

After some less tense conversation about what everyone does for a living, including Byleth’s standard crestology briefing, their waiter comes back and they’re able to place their actual food orders. 

“Seteth has a crest,” Indech says. Byleth thinks those are actually the first words he’s spoken to her. “None of the rest of us do, though.”

“Oh?” Byleth turns to Seteth and smiles. “You didn’t tell me that.”

He shrugs. “It didn’t seem important. Only thing I’ve ever done with it is getting a scholarship. Oh, I did a study in my undergraduate as well. Through Hanneman, actually. That’s how I know him.”

Rhea sighs. “I still wish you hadn’t done that study,” she mumbles. 

He shrugs. “It didn’t _ do _ anything, Rhea. It was just research. It’s not as though he was collecting my blood or something.”

“That you know of,” Macuil says with a dark smile. 

“Hush,” Seteth chastises. Flayn holds up her food mat to show how she’s colored in the restaurant’s mascot. “Well, done, sweetie. Here, will you help me with this puzzle, here?”

“What was the study?” Byleth asks after a few moments. She can see Rhea is displeased, but she’s too curious to care. She’s read a fair amount of Hanneman’s data, but of course, it’s all anonymous. She wouldn’t be able to recognize Seteth's data. 

“Just standard data gathering. He didn’t have any data for a major crest of Cichol, so the university offered to reimburse some expenses if I participated.” He and Flayn reach the edge of the maze and Flayn claps. “It was mostly various physical exercises. How I was able to do them with and without the crest active.”

Byleth nods. “Sounds about like what he has me doing, too. Other than general GA and TA stuff, of course.”

Rhea pouts but doesn’t say anything. Maybe she figures she’s outmatched, here. Good. Byleth has heard enough anti-crestology rhetoric to last a lifetime. 

After a few more moments of discussion, their food arrives. Either the service here is impeccable, or family brunch happens often enough that the restaurant just knows to give this family preferential treatment. They all dig in, conversation coming to a standstill. At least, until Byleth spots Rhea winking out of the corner of her eye. 

“Flayn!” Seteth cries, “Your dress!”

Byleth looks over, and sure enough, Flayn has spilled her chocolate milk all over the front of her dress. Seteth tries to dab at it with a napkin, but it’s no use. 

He sighs, stands, and picks her up out of her seat. All the while she’s looking at Rhea, who Byleth notices gives her a nod. “I’m sorry, everyone, I’ve got to get this washed out before the stain sets.” He gives Byleth an apologetic smile, a squeeze on her shoulder, and heads to the bathroom. 

Byleth immediately looks at Rhea, who sips at her mimosa as if she were innocent. “What was that?”

Rhea shrugs. “Flayn has always had trouble with big glasses. I did tell the waiter to put it in a kid’s cup, but they said they ran out.”

Indech raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t say that--”

“Anyhow,” Rhea says. “Why don’t we use this opportunity to bond? It’s so exciting to see Seteth out with someone again! Wouldn’t you agree, boys?”

Macuil takes a large bite of his eggs benedict, and Indech munches thoughtfully on his bacon. “I guess so?” Indech says. “I mean, he seemed fine before, but he’s definitely lightened up recently.”

“Exactly,” Rhea says. “Which is so nice, and we’re so thankful--”

“What’s going on here?” Byleth says. “I feel like I’m getting emotional whiplash.”

“I just think it’s time Seteth moved on,” Rhea clasps her hands in front of herself and smiles at Byleth, though she seems a bit strained. “I am so happy to see him with you. He hasn’t dated at all since Morrigan died.”

Indech and Macuil do everything within their power to not make eye contact with either Rhea or Byleth. Byleth bets they regret the phone rule, now. 

“How dare you,” is all Byleth can manage. Deep, raging, from the bottom of her heart. Macuil and Indech snap to attention and Rhea’s smile cracks. “Seteth is allowed however long he needs to mourn. There is no time limit, and he certainly doesn’t need interference from you. _ You _ don’t decide when he’s ready to move on.”

Rhea’s once soft eyes have turned seething. She stands from her seat, and Byleth is certain they’ve drawn a crowd now. “You wicked thing. How dare you raise your voice at me! I have been nothing but nice, and this is how you repay me? What will your mother say when I inform her of your behavior?”

Byleth is aware that Seteth has made his way back to their table, holding Flayn’s little hand. She knows, can see him, but Rhea’s comment is too much. She doesn’t know how else to react other than to double over and laugh. Everyone must be looking at her like she’s insane, but what else can she do at such an asinine comment?

“What’s going on?” Seteth asks. He shuffles Flayn over by Indech, away from Rhea. 

Byleth lifts her head and stares Rhea in the eye, little laughs still bursting out from her chest. The woman seems too confused to be upset. That’ll change. Byleth picks her purse up, pulling out her wallet and tossing enough money to cover her meal on the table before grabbing her phone. She stands from her seat, puts her jacket back on, and glares at Rhea. 

Seteth attempts to reach out to her, but she only squeezes his hand before replying to Rhea’s, to everyone’s, unspoken question. “My mother has been dead for eight years. If you find a way to contact her, let me know. I’d love to catch up.”

She lets go of Seteth’s hand and leaves the restaurant. She doesn’t feel victorious, even after Rhea’s jaw dropped. Byleth’s stomach just feels like a rock, and her heart feels like a black hole. Deep, and full of everything the universe has thrown into her. Once she’s outside, she feels like collapsing. Goddammit, Seteth was her ride. She’s halfway to calling her dad when Seteth’s hand covers her phone and she realizes she’s shaking. Not crying, just shaking. 

“What _ happened _ in there?” He begs. Fuck Rhea, Byleth thinks, and so she tells him. What she said about Morrigan, about Seteth, about Byleth’s mother. It all happened so fast. And maybe Rhea didn’t _ actually _ say anything incriminating. But Byleth knows what it’s like to mourn, that it takes time. To hear Seteth’s own sister brush him off...

Seteth wraps his arms around her. “Thank you,” he says, “for speaking up for me. It’s not the first time she’s said something of that sort. Most people tend to avert their eyes and pretend they didn’t hear it.”

Byleth nods and snuggles her way into Seteth’s arms. “I had a teacher tell me once in high school to just get over my mom’s death. Like, really?” She scoffs and breathes in the scent of his four-spice cologne. “People are the worst.”

He hums his agreement into her hair. “I’m sorry about your mother. I had my suspicions, but... I had hoped they weren’t true.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when you left Garegg Mach, she was sick, and not looking well. Years passed, and I invited your family to my wedding only to receive a polite declination and a wedding gift signed only by your father.” He kisses the top of her head and squeezes her shoulders. “And when you and I were reunited, you never spoke of her.”

Byleth nods. “Yeah, she would have been passed about a year, when you and Morrigan got married. Dad wasn’t going out a whole lot back then.”

Seteth cups her face with his hands, warming her cheeks in the cold air. It feels nice, comforting. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry I ruined family brunch.”

Seteth chuckles. “This is certainly one of the more chaotic family brunches we’ve had in a while, but it’s one I’m sure we’ll remember.” He hums and places a kiss on Byleth’s forehead. “Indech and Macuil are going to take Flayn to a park she likes. I was thinking we could meet them there and I could properly introduce you to them. Sans Rhea.”

Byleth chuckles. “I take it I may not have big sis’s approval for a while, huh?”

He shrugs. “She detested Morrigan, so you’re in good company.” He releases his hold on her face and grabs her hand instead, leading her back to his car. What an awful Sunday morning this has turned out to be, but Byleth wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Once they’re in Seteth’s car and the engine is on, he turns to her. “That reminds me,” he says. She looks over to him, about to ask what he means, but he just leans over to kiss her. Properly, finally, on her lips. Not her head, or her forehead. On her lips. When he pulls away, he smiles. “Somehow, that’s managed to evade us, hasn’t it?” He smiles at her as he clicks his seatbelt. 

She just pulls him in to kiss him again. And a few more times, until the park is nearly forgotten. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhea isn't actually all that bad in this universe, she and Byleth just get off to an awful start. As for why she didn't realize Byleth's mom was dead, it's because Byleth's mom was a very good friend of hers and so she sort of just blocked Sephia's sickness from her mind. As Sephia got sicker and eventually died, Rhea was off at school getting her degree and just telling herself "no news is good news". Yeah, not always Rhea!!! She's also sensitive about crests bc it may have something to do with their own mother's death..................
> 
> Anyway!! This isn't necessarily the end of this au!! There's still stuff I want to write for it! Mostly one-shots, not really a multichap like this again. Multichaps are hard..... But also!! Uh!!! I'm gearing up to work on going to grad school!! I may not actually be going for a while still, but I'm working on it and I'm excited! Do you think they'll accept my Setleth fic as a writing sample???

**Author's Note:**

> as always hmu on twitter @nanatee_fanatee


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